How Hazardous Driving Conditions Are Good for You, or Reflections on a Des Moines* Driving Experience

*actually, it should be Windsor Heights/Clive, Iowa driving experience to be geographically correct, but Des Moines Driving sounds better :)

I like to think of myself as a "seasoned" driver. I was taught how to drive in late fall in central Wisconsin. This included several stints of white-knuckled driving (and white-knuckled front passenger seat riding) in winter complete with snow, ice, freezing rain, hail, the works.

Receiving my driver's license (on my second attempt) in early February I was still in Wisconsin. The first time, in true Wisconsin fashion, snow had blurred the painted lane dividers and during my road test I was instructed to make a left hand turn. I did as instructed, feeling confident, until a truck pulled up on my left hand side, alerting me to the fact that I was not in the left hand turn lane as anticipated. After that I honed my driving skills in Connecticut, land of windy roads carved into mountain sides. And I rounded it out driving in downtown Chicago.

Though I have yet to drive the lawless roads of LA I am confident that I could handle whoever decides to cut me off having born witness to my friends' driving.

But driving in Des Moines can spoil a person. Although the strictly enforced speed limits, which rarely exceed 35 mph have reduced me to squeaky indignation, one gets used to it. I am a self-confessed speed demon, but I am also a creature of habit. And having been warned of law enforcement's hard-nosed approach to speed limits I have caught myself mildly panicking when I exceed 45 mph. This is from a person, who under any other driving conditions usually takes the posted speed limit and adds 15.

Also, in LA, where every third person is trying to make a left-hand turn on a two lane street, left hand turn lanes are rare and left hand turn signals a luxury. Therefore, one must often inch one's way oh so cautiously into the intersection and pray that oncoming traffic will at least be courteous not to swipe your bumper as you wait for the light to turn red. At that divinely appointed, or at least culturally accepted moment, you can crank the wheel, stomp on the accelerator, and make the turn that you've been waiting five minutes to make. Here in Des Moines, where I am spending my last full 24 hours, there are left hand turn lanes everywhere!

There are even those sections of road that are sectioned off in the middle of the road, reserved for traffic that is coming from either direction to make a left hand or a right hand turn into a shopping center. As I am not a traffic engineer I don't know the technical term for them. I do know that they are rare in LA.

And don't get me started on the number of left hand turn lights Des Moines has en masse. Oh that LA could install a few of those! Maybe Angelinos could DRV HPY.

There are even green *right hand* turn lights. I almost weep with pleasure when I see those as I know I won't be sideswiped by some jerk trying to run the light. The law is on my side! Nevertheless, the paranoid city driver in me still checks before inching into the intersection.

As much as I love these traffic conveniences and the fact that they are spoiling the heck out of me, that is also the downfall. I have opted to use the children's storybook characters the Country Mouse and the City Mouse in lieu of and to not directly offend any homo sapiens. I would argue that the City Mouse is a "better" driver due to conditioning. S/he is used to the perils of driving as s/he is faced with them every time they get behind the wheel. (This is assuming that there are cars correctly proportioned for mice. As Stuart Little had a car I would argue that there are. There's your random pop culture reference for today's post.)

The City Mouse doesn't have an illusions about his or her fellow driver. S/he knows getting on the 5, the 110, the 101, or any road for that matter, there's going to be some one who's driving distracted- be it texting on their phone, yelling at their kids, fumbling with the radio dial, etc., *Chances are the City Mouse is doing the same things too* Though not this City Mouse. Speed is my only vice. Unless of course I am employed by a city or state agency. Then, I will be the paradigm of law-abiding citizen!

Roads are also more crowded in the city making space more limited. Therefore, one has to be more aware lest one scratch that $100,000 Maserati that is ahead of you. Beautiful as they are, it is better to look not touch lest one wishes for one's auto insurance rates to skyrocket to the stratosphere.

The Country Mouse, bless those that still exist, often still harbors the notion that people, or in this case, "mice," are inherently good. That everyone else is driving just as carefully as s/he. And while one should always drive defensively, other drivers are not going to cut you off arbitrarily because everyone drives nice, right?

Two minutes on any big city road will vaporize any belief in other drivers being inherently "good." Someone's going to merge into your lane without looking, someone else will be riding your bumper like you're playing Bumper Cars, a third driver is merging onto the on-ramp without regard for the other cars that are already there. And if you're lucky all three conditions will converge at the same time like a traffic Bermuda Triangle.

Therefore, the Country Mouse is snapped out of his or her revelry that s/he was able to indulge puttering around in his or her small town accelerating or slowing at a whim, not bothering to signal lane changes This does occur in big cities too. But such actions do not go unnoticed. Many a driver anoints him or herself a traffic cop and is more than happy to tell you what you did wrong complete with hand gestures, colorful language, and commentary on your ancestry.

While I'm not advocating that we should all drive like the self-centered jerk that wants to be unleashed from our id, I do hypothesize that a little hazardous driving conditions isn't always a bad thing. Just like Midwestern winter weather driving conditions as sucky as it is to have to deal with it, given enough exposure it could save our lives. (think how vaccines work, same concept). Drive into that big city Country Mouse, you'll thank me later.

Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose (the more things change, the more they stay the same)

Looking for a job my how-to-get-a-job books recommend that I define what I want in a job. They don’t recommend vagaries. So, I’ve been thinking of what I’d like to do ideally/where I’d like to live and what reality might be able to provide.

When I was young I wanted to be an artist- sleep late, have people pay me to paint, travel to lands far from the staid but comfortable Midwest in which I grew up. I also wanted to live in a big city, with exciting things to do at night, which would be waiting for me after I rolled out of bed. There would be cultural events at my disposal. Ideally, it’d be a big creative city brimming with artistic people to chat with over coffee, watch good-not-boring foreign films with, and contemplate priceless works of art together. Also, ideally my dad's last name would be Trump, Rockefeller, or other titian of industry.

Some things remain the same- in a perfect world I’d prefer to sleep late, be paid to paint, and travel. But I know that nowadays it’s next to impossible to eke out, much less make a proper living as a painter. Therefore, I’ve realigned my sights for something more realistic. I’ve always wanted to have a job that would make a difference in the world. And as much as I believe in the power of art I don’t think that a painting will solve world hunger. Mona Lisa’s been around for about five hundred years and she has yet to put a dent in the issue of international famine.

I also think that problem-solving and liaison with multiple parties is something that I’d like to do and would be great at. Ideally, I’d work in an education or sustainability-emphasis capacity. And I’d definitely like to have new challenges every once in a while. I did go/am at planning school. But I am 95% confident in the hiring potential probabilities in the planning realm. All I hear about are people being laid off. However, I get most of my planning news in California. Now is definitely time to start expanding my horizons, especially those that could provide an optimistic boost.

Regardless of where I end up, being in a big city is still very important to me, and especially one that has creative areas. Again, with the utopianism, I’d like to stay in LA. The weather is perfect about 360 days out of the year, there’s always something interesting to do, and we have a vibrant, active creative community. Even if some of them pay too much for clothes that they could pick up at Good Will for 200 dollars less, same look.

However, I have a mental list of places that I’d like to live in before I settle down somewhere for a really long time and Texas is one of them. I’ve lived technically in the four parts of the US. They’re not the true cardinal points. But it is definitely the four major regions of the US= the Northeast (Connecticut), the Southeast (Savannah), the West Coast (California), and the Midwest (Chicago, Wisconsin). But I haven’t lived in Texas, which I consider a country unto itself. It’s certainly big enough to be. And guys that say ma'am like George Eads of CSI fame make me weak in the knees. Granted, that wasn't terribly professional, but it's true. I also visited Charlotte, North Carolina over spring break last year and I loved it there. It reminds me of Savannah, where I went to undergrad, but there is more to do.

I’m open to moving anywhere, that is the perk of moving around a lot as a kid. Just nowhere with wretched amounts of humidity and within reasonable driving distance of a major metropolitan area.

I'll keep you posted on what unfolds! And where I end up. :)

Home is Where the Heart Is?

I try to keep my postings academic in nature, but I've been thinking about what is "home" and where is home a lot lately, a subject that is more personal than professional. Permit me, if you will, a rumination.

I recently returned from Minnesota, where my parents' current home is, land of ice, snow, and inhumane temperatures. It is not "my" home as my parents only moved there a year and I'm not sure they'd enthusiastically declare it as their home either.

As I mentioned in an earlier posting I've lived in 11 places in 25 years. The majority of the time was spent growing up in Wisconsin, a short stint was in the central valley of California- between Fresno and Bakersfield, you know the (soon-to-be-voluntarily-retired) actor Joaquin Phoenix? I'm in/was in the San Joaquin Valley. I graduated from high school in Connecticuit, went to art school in Savannah, Georgia and flew to Milwaukee when school wasn't in session. I've lived in Chicago proper and Naperville, IL, a white collar suburb of Chicago. I've got my sights set on L.A. for more schooling and hopefully an eventual career. Hello Santa Monica, do you foresee an entry-level planning position in two years?

There is a saying that says home is where the heart is. I'm not sure where my heart is.

I was thinking specifically of this metaphorical heart because one of my dearest friends, after an incredibly long and drama-filled 5 year relationship decided that her heart was no longer in Savannah, GA, where we had gone to school together. She is originally from San Francisco and had considered moving to Philadelphia, but had stayed because her boyfriend was in Savannah and he was unenthusiastic about leaving for greener pastures. But then things reached an impass in their relationship and she realized that nothing was anchoring her to Savannah. So, she packed up and legged it to Boston to stay with a friend while she sorts things out.

As I was talking to her it was 23 degrees in Boston, but she sounded exhilirated. She had forgotten that so many cities have more than two movie theaters that show more than just the latest offering from Disney, diversity and culture around every corner, and there are street vendors- sorry no roach coaches in Savannah, though they'd probably make a killing with all of the hungry and harried college students rushing about on Broughton and Bull Streets.

My friend is literally one of the smartest and cultured people that I will ever meet and I'm not implying that Savannah made her stupid. But living in one place for a long time can procur a certain kind of amnesia. One can forget what the rest of the world looks like, which is a shame because there is so much that this world has to offer.

I used to consider it some sort of cosmic injustice that I constantly had to move, but now I see it as a blessing. I've had the opportunity to live in some parts of the U.S. some other people may never even get to visit in their lifetimes

But during the holidays, driving through the cozy-and-a-little-dowdy Midwest brought about a pang for me as I looked upon the rather plain but familiar ranch, Cape Cod, and salt box houses in white or beige with brown, black or green trim that populated the streets and the memories of my childhood. There were a few forlorn Spanish revival houses on my parents' block, looking like displaced transplants from California, but mainly there were small houses of modest proportions with equally modest trim.

And for a moment I wondered what I was doing on the West Coast hundreds of miles from family, a question numerous strangers have asked me. Why shouldn't I move back to these familiar sights and just, I don't know?! teach elementary art as I had considered doing in high school.

Then, after a sub-zero wind chill hit me and almost sucked the air out of my lungs I realized why. Because I dreamed of moving (back) to California. I wanted to go to grad school in L.A. and see what urban planning is like down there and now I am on my way to accomplishing this.

It may not be home, but it's definitely a place I want to get to know better, on my terms. The last time we were here I was in the 4th grade and we had come because my dad's company was attempting to start up another branch in the town we lived in.

I will probably never move back to the East Coast, above the Mason-Dixon line. The outlook and lifestyle aren't in sync with mine. Yet many people can't imagine living anywhere else. But if my friend settles into a life in Boston I will gladly visit her and the new life she may carve out there. She has too many memories of San Francisco and feels that she's experienced all that she wants to experience in the City By the Bay.

A few years ago I had considered moving back to Savannah as it was safe and familiar and frankly life after college is usually anything but. However, my friend was the last person from school that lived there and with her gone there is nothing left except the bars we frequented.

I'd lived in Milwaukee twice, in two different suburbs, but the first time I was so little I don't remember many specifics and the second time as a displaced college student, having moved there two days after high school graduation (from CT- keep up people!), it never felt like home. And the frigid temperatures didn't encourage that I stay.

Given the right mix of opportunities I may move back to Chicago some day, but over my dead body will you find me in Naperville again. Though I highly recommend it for the people looking to raise their kids in a safe town with excellent schools, at the time I was there I was single and childless, not exactly a hotbed of action for a twentysomething.

I've come to learn, there is very few things that are truly certain in life. It is not certain that I will get married, it is not certain that I will have children. There are no guarantees that I will leave this planet without a cancer cell ever marring my body or even depart with all of the limbs that I came into this world with. But that's OK.

A wise person once observed that "life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived." So even if I had a pair of ruby-red slippers to click and whisper, "there's no place like home" it's unlikely I'd wind up in one specific place. And I think I'm learning to be OK with that.

John Steinbeck once said, "I have homes everywhere, many of which I have not seen yet. That is perhaps why I am restless. I haven't seen all my homes."

Perhaps that is why I too am restless.

ps- the girl in the picture is neither me nor my friend from Savannah. But she is my bestest friend.